


Gloves

by feverbeats



Series: g series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-24
Updated: 2008-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once they're inside, the house if full of warmth and everyone is very understanding and careful, and George wants to scream or turn back time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gloves

They make it through the winter on checked blankets and Lee's hot chocolate. George knows in the back of his head that he's only happy because he can hide from the world in their tiny flat, but he lets it go for the time being, just letting himself enjoy the feeling of relative safety.

Christmas is a strange, cramped affair in George's head, and he makes himself go through the motions of sending cards and gifts, but he doesn't feel too bad about not getting into the holiday spirit, because he isn't the only one. He and Lee go to the Burrow to drop off presents, but he can't imagine staying long.

They apparate to the edge of the yard and walk through the snow to the door, George's bare hand in Lee's gloved one. George got Lee a new pair of gloves for Christmas, a gift which makes him feel middle-aged and boring, but he couldn't bring himself to get anyone any sort of joke gift, and he doesn't know what else people give each other. Lee professed to love them, though, and at least he's got them on. They're gray and soft and George wonders if they feel at all like armor.

Once they're inside, the house if full of warmth and everyone is very understanding and careful, and George wants to scream or turn back time. Lee squeezes his hand, though, and he makes it through the holiday small talk.

Mum loads him up with a new jumper and pumpkin juice and a dozen packages of baked goods. “Have to make sure you're eating,” she fusses, red-faced and earnest and less worried and angry then the last time he saw her. They're all getting better at this whole healing thing.

Ginny and Ron hug George like nothing is wrong, and everyone is very pleased that Lee came along, and everything goes disgustingly well. Bill and Fleur offer for George to come and stay with them whenever he wants, and he tries to mumble a thank you and deflect them to another topic. He isn't sure he can deal with anything beyond Diagon Alley right now.

He catches a quiet moment by the fire with Harry, who also hasn't taken his coat off, like he's not entirely sure he's welcome or willing to stay. George punches Harry lightly in the arm. “How're things, mate?”

Harry doesn't quite smile. “They're all right. Your family's been great.”

George is glad that Harry isn't trying to talk about Fred, or worse, trying to talk around him. He's getting a little sick of looking like half a ghost. “Yeah,” he says, “They're pretty great. How're things with Gin, then?”

Now Harry really does smile. “Fantastic.”

And George doesn't have to feel resentful or lonely, he realizes with a shock, because he's got someone to come home to, too. He glances over at Lee, who's drinking hot chocolate and laughing with Charlie. “Good,” he says, and his voice comes out hoarse.

Unable to escape before everyone's begun doing presents, George and Lee end up leaning together by the hearth while the others open packages of Mum's jumpers and biscuits. Lee digs his fingers into George's arm a little through his sleeve, real and comforting, and George leans back against Lee's chest. “Hey,” Lee whispers.

“Hey.”

“Just wondering, but were you planning on telling your mum about us?” His voice is low and casual, but George can hear the tension in it.

George was actually planning on avoiding the issue for as long as possible, to be honest. “Right,” he says. “That.” He shuts his eyes. “S'pose so. At some point. Didn't think we ought to rush things.”

Lee's sigh of relief ghosts across George's cheek. “Right, ok, good. I mean, I'm sure they'll be great. They're always great. I'm just not looking forward to cluing _mine_ in.”

George hadn't even though about that. Lee's family has always been pretty all right, and he doesn't really want to make enemies of them just because he can't get through one winter alone. That's not fair, of course, because Lee is more than just something to keep the cold out, and that should make it better rather than worse, but this whole telling-people business is an obstacle George wouldn't have even thought about a year ago. It's sort of nice, actually, having something normal to worry about.

Halfway through the gift-giving, Percy drifts over to the fire, catching George by surprise. “Oh—hullo, Perce,” George says, moving away from Lee with a jerky little movement.

Percy raises his eyebrow like he's taken classes on it. “You don't need to do that.” He laughs the interesting little self-deprecating laugh he's picked up lately. “Least of all for me.”

George smiles, wondering why he's so surprised. “Oh. Right, then. Sorry.” He slides his fingers back through Lee's, and Lee nods to Percy, grinning.

The three of them lean there, watching the others open presents, and George feels very old and very out of the loop, which isn't really fair, because everyone's hurting. He keeps having to remind himself that it's all right for him to hurt, too.

He glances at Percy and says carefully, “You said this gets better.”

“Well. Someday.” Percy tilts his head slightly. “This isn't exactly half bad, is it?”

 _No_ , George thinks, _It's really not_. Lee's fingers tighten around his wrist.

*

When they're on their way out, Charlie helps them with their packages, holding the door. “Listen,” he says, “You have to come visit me one of these days.”

George forces a laugh, not sure if he's fit for human interaction yet. “Yeah, that's what everyone's been saying. I'd love to. Sure.”

“Hey,” Charlie says, keeping his hand on George's arm, “I hear Lee's been taking care of you.”

There's a question there, and if he wants to ask, he damn well can. George wants to punch him for _hinting_. “Yeah,” he says sharply, “Guess he has.”

“Right, then. Happy Christmas,” Charlie says, a little sadly.

As they leave, Lee brushes a snowflake off George's nose. “Percy's right,” he says. “It gets easier.”

George wonders if dealing with his family will ever be easy, because it was hard enough before, and now everything's in a whole new shape, and it's not a shape he feels like he has a place in. He's damn well going to try to manage, though, and at least he's got Lee on his side.

Lee smiles up at the sky before they apparate back to Diagon Alley. “Just wait till you see what I got you,” he says.

George shuts his eyes. “Yeah? What is it?”

“C'mon. Tell you when we get home.”

 _Home_. George holds the word in his head and decides that really, there are worse Christmas presents. He presses his fingers against the pads of Lee's gloves and apparates.


End file.
